The Remains Of The Day

Considering that she's not a regular movie goer, and does not exactly follow shows and showtimes, my wife Mangala does rather well when it comes to picking up a DVD from the local video library or the British Library (which seems to have a better collection of movies than books these days).

Her latest selection from Brit Lib was 'The Remains of the Day'. It is a Merchant - Ivory film based on the novel of the same name by Kazuo Ishiguro. Ruth Prawer Jhabvala has written the screenplay. The film stars Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson. Besides Christopher Reeve, there is a young Hugh Grant in a supporting role. Both Sir Anthony and Emma Thompson are superb. There is a subdued tautness all through the movie, maintained perhaps by an excellent background score as much as by the performances of the actors.

The home entertainment DVD comes with a couple of very interesting documentaries about the making of the movie.

The film received 8 Oscar nominations including Best Picture (which it lost to 'Schindler's List'), Best Actor (Tom Hanks won it for 'Philadelphia'), Best Actress (Holly Hunter got it for 'The Piano'). It didn't win any. 1993 at the Oscars belonged to 'Schindler's List' which grabbed 7 Oscars though none for acting.

Snip, snip, snip

A couple of months ago I instructed my barber to cut my hair short. At first he was reluctant to begin his assignment but when I genially urged him to go on, he snipped away with an energy not seen by a member of that profession in recent times. When he finished and held a mirror to the back of my head, I understood the reasons for his initial hesitation. The morning sun shone off my pate with a blinding light except when a few passing clouds reduced the glare for a few seconds. I double checked if the light source was my nimbus tilted away from its axis but then no. It was indeed Sol Invictus. The barber bowed deeply and accepted his charges. As I walked out to the astonished stares of the adoring public, I was reminded of a few eventful haircuts I had seen and been given as a kid.

I went to 'Home School' in Basavanagudi. The principal was a Ms. Madappa, an Anglo-Indian lady who ruled us all with an iron hand and Queen's English. Every month, boys with an unruly crop ready for harvest would be identified and a letter sent off to their parents. The parents would be given a few days time to have their ward's hair cut. If not, the school would have it done at their cost.

In one of the shops around Tagore Circle stood 'Decent Haircutting Saloon'. I'm not sure if that venerable institution stands there even now. I'll check one of these days. Anyway, like most barber shops, Decent would close every Tuesday. On the Tuesday following the drop dead date for compliance, a Decent barber would be seen lurking about in the morning just before assembly. After assembly, les miserables would be sheared in plain view of whoever was passing by. The next month's fee intimation would carry an extra charge of Rs.5/- towards haircutting expenses.

The more hopeful among my schoolmates would try a few tricks to postpone this ignominy. I remember one of them had tried the expedient of shaving off his sideburns while leaving intact a thick, uncombed mop on his head. He seemed pretty confident of getting away with it. But somehow he was discovered and put under the scissors.

As Ms. Madappa may have said, A snip in time saves five.